A Bad Dream
by Nicky Dee
Summary: Close you eyes. Imagine you were born different. Now imagine you were born into a world that hated you for being different. That is Anara’s world, who will someday be known as the Hellcat, Weapon X’s most deadly assassin.


**_A Dream:_**

**BY: NickyDee**

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This is a story about my X-Men character, hellcat. Hellcat had a rough life, a life that did not improve with age. Growing up in an orphanage in New Jersey, Anara was constantly tormented merely because she was different, because she was a born a mutant. This is her story.

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DISCLAIMER:

Hellcat is my character. You may not use her at all. This story was written for entertainment uses only.

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Anara is a person who has a lot of inner demons. One of these demons are her dreams. In the back of her mind, old dreams once thought too have been forgotten cried out from the darkness, begging to be remembered. It was a dream that Anara has had a million times and has fought dearly to forget.

It was dream about when a child growing up in the rough streets of New Jersey, when she nothing but a little girl, only ten years old. And this dream was really a memory. A memory she did not want to remember.

Anara was born an orphan with no record of her mother or her father. Abandoned at birth, she was raised in a small orphanage in New Jersey that was just a fifteen-minute drive away from New York. Even at birth it was quite obvious what she was 'different', for her eyes where cat-like and a very bright green, and her ears where pointed like a cat's. At birth she was automatically separated from the other children in fear that she might spread whatever demonic illness that cursed her so. It was only later that the nuns that took care of her discovered that it was no disease that plagued her, but a muntanic gene.

Growing up so near New York gave Anara a sort of privileged access to the super heroes of New York, especially the Fantastic Four. To Anara the Fantastic Four where heroes that in a way where like her; different. She glorified them, her small little room in the abbey covered with posters. But this did not stop Anara from being teased.

**SMACK!**

Anara cried out as the older boy and bully of Hilerd Heights Orphanage, Brad, punched her in the face, sending her falling to the floor. Brad was the biggest boy in the orphanage and older then her by several years. And he had a very specific view on mutants. "Damn you, you dirty little monster! You made me drop my jello!" Brad roared down at her, waving his hands at the upended bowl of grape jello that Anara had accidentally knocked down to the ground after she accidentally bumped into the large boy. Enraged, the boy kicked Anara in the gut, causing her to howl in agony. "You stupid mutie! You ain't good for nuthin!"

Anara gasped, clutching her chest, trying hard to breath, her glorious green eyes bright with tears, hearing the other kids that where unfortunate enough to be here in this destitute place crowd around, eager to see Brad beat the snot out of Ana the Cat-Girl once more.

Tears still in her eyes, Anara glared up at Brad, angry. It was not her fault she knocked down the jelly, Brad's mean friend Greg had pushed her on purpose. It should be Greg getting beat up, not her. Angry, Anara scrambled to her feet and tackled Brad to the ground, her small ten-year-old body powerful due to constant tree climbing on her part. But her victory was short lived. Although caught by surprise by her quick reflexes, Brad was the bigger and stronger of the two and soon Anara was back on the floor, nursing a bleeding nose.

"_FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"_ cried all the children as the circled the two combatants, elated to see some action finally after their boring lessons. Grunting, Anara got to her knees, sniffling and wiping the blood away. Anara at the age of ten was a small, skinny little thing, her skin a warm cinnamon, and her hair cut to a short bob. Dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, she was a tomboy, and proud of it. Unfortunately this position was none to impressive to most of the children who both feared her and mocked her. Anara, or Ana as she was often called, had few friends. Screaming out hatefully, Anara charged forward and tackled Brad once again. But Anara did not stop there. Anara slugged Brad hard on the jaw, seeing a tooth fly out, hearing Brad cry out in pain, the sound making her grin with glee.

It was then that Anara was yanked off Brad and spun around to find Father Peterson glaring down at her hatefully, his face red with rage. "How dare you strike this boy, you damn demon-spawn!" he shrieked, striking her hard across the face. "Go to your room! You shall have no lunch or dinner! As God as my witness, you shall learn manners demon! GO!"

It always was at that point that Anara would wake up sobbing, slashing the air with her claws, her eyes wide. She hated that dream so much. The thing she hated about it the most was the fact that is was no dream but a memory.


End file.
